Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 100545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“Approaching from the North,” he said when three black cars appeared in the distance, heading toward his crew. He was quick to don his mask and gloves and adjusted his rifle, following the cavalcade through the scope.
With the enemy entering the scene, uncertainty and fear dispersed to the depths of Boar’s mind, leaving sharp focus behind. There were times to worry and times to do something about the reasons for it.
“Dark windshields. My guess—bulletproof glass. Probably armored too,” he said into the headset as he focused on the vehicles, which cut through the wild meadow like a sickle.
“We’re ready,” Tank said, stepping from behind his pickup as the other two joined him.
Boar stayed silent. His heart beat so furiously he sensed pulsing in his gums, but there was no time to focus on discomfort when the enemy cars parked just meters away from Drake’s van.
Tank raised his hand in greeting, as if the traffickers were his old friends.
Boar couldn’t see anyone through the dark glass, but two of the vehicles opened up at the same time, and several men spilled out, weapons not yet drawn but definitely there. Boar could swear he’d seen one or two of their faces before but couldn’t quite place them. Still, he didn’t let it distract him, and he focused on the car in the middle. Its doors opened with a delay, and at the front. Whoever was in the back had reasons to travel with such a big group of armed men. They’d be in the back seat, on the left side, and Boar was ready to take a shot as soon as they stepped out.
Tank’s stance appeared relaxed, casual as if he weren’t in a life-or-death situation. “So, who is the buyer?”
One of the men approached with a suitcase, and Boar heard him through the mic of Tank’s headset. “None of your business. I’ve got the money if you provide the merchandise.”
Drake shook his head. “We’re not providing shit until we know we’re not being robbed by some middle man.”
Good cop, bad cop act then.
Tank gestured at Drake to calm down. “It’s okay. I’m sure we didn’t go through all the trouble of acquiring the boy only to find out we’re not dealing with the source of the contract.”
Suitcase-man snarled loudly enough for the mic to pick it up. “Stop fucking around. The buyer’s in the back. S—They just choose not to show their face. Something you should understand.”
“Fine.” Drake approached the back of the van and pulled Clover out in rough moves that made Boar’s heart ache. But he needed to trust in the plan. Pyro was there too and would surely take matters in his own hands if the situation turned ugly.
Boar couldn’t shoot until they were sure the right person was there. His finger itched on the trigger, but he was stuck waiting for a signal from Tank. Their operations worked best when everyone followed the plan. That was what he needed to remember.
But when Tank raised his gun to Clover’s head, Boar was ready to pull the trigger to end the whole charade. The need to get the firearm away from Clover’s forehead was so visceral it coated Boar’s back with sweat, and seeing the boy writhing helplessly wasn’t helping Boar focus.
“If you’re the buyer,” Tank called out toward the car. “And you want the boy so much, show yourself. We’re done playing games.”
Boar felt his index finger tremble on the trigger when he noticed the mercenaries stiffen, their hands ready to grab whatever weapons they had on them, overpower the small group of three, and try to take Clover without handing over the cash.
But the back door on the left opened, and all heads turned in that directions like soldiers waiting for their general’s orders. Boar’s muscles calcified when the breeze played with long blonde hair that appeared above the roof of the vehicle first. He was startled to see a streak of bright pink in the mane, but when the woman rose and left the limo, his breath became uncomfortably shallow.
Her, he knew without a doubt.
She was dressed in a blue A-line dress, and while she didn’t have the huge German shepherd at her side, it was the same woman they’d let go at Riggs’s safe house.
She hadn’t been a date or potential victim. She was Clover’s buyer.
So many years in this business, yet they’d underestimated her just because she was a neat-looking middle aged lady.
Tank’s shoulders stiffened, but he was stalling with the signal, and it caused so much havoc in Boar that he was ready to rip Tank to pieces when they saw eye to eye again. Boar had her. He could shoot, blast her head open at any moment. Why were they hesitating?
He could make the choice for everyone and deal with Tank’s anger later.